


Second shift

by Perelka_L



Category: Naruto
Genre: (Not discussed), Albino Tobirama, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Anger Management, Developing Relationship, Family Dynamics, M/M, Pansexual Character, Resolved Sexual Tension, Single Parents, Tired kissing, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-06 00:23:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17929226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perelka_L/pseuds/Perelka_L
Summary: It's one thing to be a dumb teenager and do dumb stuff when drunk.It's the same thing to be a dumb adult and do dumb stuff when exhausted, though the outcome may be much more preferable, especially when you are crushing hard on your neighbour.





	Second shift

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [drinking for two](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17815493) by [godaime_obito](https://archiveofourown.org/users/godaime_obito/pseuds/godaime_obito). 



> tfw someone writes you an amazing thing and then you get inspired to write after a very long break.
> 
> And thus, two old men being a mess.

God, he was so tired.

He owed that to someone, taking that additional shift at work. Butsuma liked to think of himself as a man of honour and someone needed to get back home earlier because kid was sick - and in all honesty, that was something Butsuma could understand. So next thing he hammered a text to Tajima begging for help and prayed that a) Tajima will indeed help him out and that b) Butsuma will survive another eight hours in a hospital without snapping, either in general or at someone.

Tajima was indeed generous enough to take care of his kids – Butsuma knew for a fact that Uchiha children were a bit more disciplined so he wasn't sure if he was sure Tajima will manage nine kids on his own or if his kids will exhaust the man. Either way, few more texts followed – where to find leftovers from previous day dinner to feed the kids, where to find hot chocolate for Itama, to pay extra attention to Kawarama's hygiene, to not worry too much about Hashirama since he will always do his own thing anyway and to not take away Tobirama's books under any circumstances. Only when Butsuma felt that he relayed all that was necessary, he felt a bit of embarrassment creep in – that was a lot of messages and he could swear he could hear Tajima's laughter in the silence of an empty nurses station.

It was a nice sound. He appreciated it a lot more than he would admit to himself. It was especially nice when he heard it the first time, Tajima staying over just after he moved in nearby, a glass of cola and whiskey in one hand and soft shadows in half-dimmed lights.

He inhaled deeply and pocketed his phone in his scrubs. Eight more hours to go.

* * *

Butsuma arrived back home past midnight. Frankly, he felt dead after 16 hours at the hospital, all that he needed was a solid rest in a warm bed before spending another eight hours (only eight hours!) at work. At least it was Thursday – past midnight, so Friday already.

He needed few additional seconds to realize why exactly the lights at his own home were on. Yes, Tajima was still there, unless those four little devils – well, three, and Itama – decided to rebel against their neighbour. Another few seconds to move from the car to the door to the house, some more to get to the keys, gracefully drop them, and pick them up again, feel few drops of oncoming rain fall on his neck, and then he heard a buzz from the doors, Tajima opening them from the inside.

The man was most very likely eager to go back to his own home and children, even just across the road. Butsuma berated himself for being so slow and entered.

"You're back fast, hopefully you weren't speeding."

Butsuma's brain was too busy with a simple task of taking off a jacket and only when he managed to slip his shoes off he managed to lift his head and register what Tajima just said.

He didn't look bad. That is, he didn't look tired. Dressed in black, a bit of makeup and Tajima didn't look bad is what Butsuma thought when he first laid the eyes on the man so that statement applied in all it's dimensions as well as in this moment.

"Didn't want to keep you waiting," he replied. "Hopefully brats weren't too horrible?"

"No, no." Tajima passed him a mug and Butsuma noted that contents were warm so Butsuma took a sip and made a pleased groan. A herbal tea, probably something to soothe him. "Kids in general are quite pleasant before they warm properly to strangers. A little shy and not too keen to cause trouble." Tajima chuckled and Butsuma tried not to focus on this sound too hard. "Yet."

"Thank you." Butsuma finally said after emptying the mug and putting it in a sink – he misjudged the distance though and it thunked against the steel. Both for a second went still, loud sound startling them and for a second they listened, trying to hear out if they woke one of the siblings. When there was just silence, Butsuma continued in a hushed tone. "I had to replace someone on short notice and honestly, I owe you one–" Tajima waved his hand, smiling.

"I will just ask you a favor when I'll need to get something done, though Madara manages the rest of siblings quite nicely so it really wasn’t a problem." It was a nice smile. Butsuma didn't have strength in him to not stare at the way Tajima's lips curled.

"I can still feel grateful, can't I?" He mumbled, tiredness setting in his bones harder second by agonizing second. He slowly put his hands on a kitchen counter, trying to stay upright and battle away the oncoming wave of nausea – he should just go to sleep, just tell Tajima to get out, thank him properly next day with a good alcohol and some pleasant talk while kids had some fun with each other.

But tiredness had that one side effect that was more annoying than even being close to collapsing in his own kitchen (Tajima immediately came closer, face worried and he was saying something but Butsuma didn't quite make out the words), namely the way his barriers and self-checks just crumbled away. Most of the times the worst that could happen was his anger issues being left unchecked and Butsuma struggling with instincts he worked every day to suppress. His children learned to avoid him if Butsuma seemed to have a particularly bad day – which is something Butsuma was working on but he still had a long way to go.

This time, though, the worst thing that was slowly resurfacing in Butsuma's thoughts was the fact that his neighbour was an undeniably attractive man. Butsuma, despite trying his best to act more like a good neighbour and a friend and not like either a teenager or a middle-aged man nearly a decade after a divorce starving for affection.

Tajima right now was struggling under Butsuma's weight to get him to his bedroom – they were almost the same height, just Butsuma was heavier in build – and all Butsuma could focus on were only two thing: exhaustion-caused nausea and the way Tajima's hands held him up.

"–I left you breakfast in the fridge, for your kids as well. What were you even thinking, taking all of this on one day, you won't sleep enough but maybe you won't collapse tomorrow in work, I hope–"

The drone of Tajima's voice was becoming quieter as they climbed the upstairs, to the bedrooms. Outside, the rain started to fall, drops falling on a roof drowning out most of what Tajima whispered. Tajima didn't turn the lights on as well but Butsuma followed his memory. They arrived in bedroom quickly enough. Inside the dark bedroom the slopes of the roof added volume to the sound of the rain. Tajima helped sit Butsuma on the bed, sighing in relief when he let go of Butsuma.

Except Butsuma didn't let go of Tajima, pulling him closer and kissing him. At first he misjudged the distance and his lips connected in a nook between Tajima's nose and cheek until he corrected himself and his lips found Tajima's lips.

It felt right and some little part of Butsuma's soul roared in delight at just this tiny bit of intimate contact – until he could feel Tajima freeze in his arms, smaller hands finding his torso and pushing Butsuma away.

He fucked up, big time.

Butsuma would worry about it, but he realized one thing that was a bit more important than his lips on Tajima's and Tajima’s reaction to it – he was too tired to go on, too tired to function like a proper human being and father of four children and a nurse and a neighbour, and too tired to think.

It was too dark to see Tajima's reaction, but he was still not moving. Butsuma wasn't sure about that but he could swear he couldn't feel Tajima's breath on his face as well. Maybe he was too shocked but then, who wouldn't be if your neighbour suddenly kissed you out of the blue in the middle of the night, even this chastely?

That was pretty much the last conscious thought Butsuma had before he fell on a bed and fell asleep.

* * *

The night was... horrible. Sleeping in his own clothes was never a good thing to do, though Butsuma noticed he slept with few layers of clothing less than he came home in, pullover, shirt and socks neatly folded on a chair nearby. Tajima was god-sent, honestly.

And then Butsuma remembered what exactly he pulled off before falling asleep and he felt like ramming his head into a wall. Repeatedly. And that man, after being kissed by Butsuma, still helped him and undressed him a bit to sleep? He must have been an angel, honestly.

Butsuma groaned, fished a ringing phone out of his pocket – the alarm was what woke him up, apparently. Outside the room he heard Hashirama and Itama, most likely the older one helping the other prepare for school. That was enough to motivate Butsuma to get up and try and refresh himself a bit before he met his children. A shower and a shave were very much needed before he even dared to look in the mirror.

When he entered the kitchen, first thing that greeted him was a delighted screech of Itama, second was a screech of a chair being pushed away from the table and third was a small kid slamming into his leg and embracing his waist very tightly. Butsuma couldn't help but smile and ruffle Itama's two-toned hair.

"You returned super late, didn't you?" Hashirama grinned from the table, waving as a greeting.

"Late enough." Coffee. He needed coffee. He picked Itama up (another happy screech followed) and directed his steps to the coffee machine. “You ate breakfast?”

“Yeah!” Itama moved a bit in his arms and clung to his neck, allowing his father to get a clean mug from a shelf nearby. “Izuna’s dad told us you would come late and he stayed with us the whole evening! But he didn’t say why…” Butsuma put Itama on a counter and resumed his coffee-making, trying his best to ignore the way Itama’s voice changed. “Why didn’t you come home, father?”

“If I could, I wouldn’t stay this late, trust me. Most likely the last time I am doing this, I swear.”

Itama nodded, satisfied with an answer. Butsuma opted to resign from breakfast for now (he’ll eat something at work) and just enjoy his coffee before driving his sons to school.

“You know, father, if you wanted to spend some _quality_ time with a new girlfriend, you could’ve just said so.” Hashirama grinned and finished his sandwich. “No need to lie or whatever.”

Butsuma blinked, tightened his hands on a mug. Inhaled. Most likely he would ignore such a remark from the rest but he and Hashirama didn’t have best of relationships and that mocking tone grazed on his nerves. Exhaled. Ever since Butsuma started to work with his issues, Hashirama didn’t let any opportunity pass to play with fire a bit, no longer afraid of Butsuma beating him up, and Hashirama could usually judge when to stop pushing.

Few years ago, only this remark would earn Hashirama at least a bruise. Now though…

“I suggest you hurry up then,” Butsuma pointedly finished his coffee. “Because I am not driving you to the school today.”

Hashirama looked at him, first surprised, then betrayed. Itama giggled when his oldest brother eyed the clock on a microwave, jumped, ran to fetch his backpack, then rushed out of the house while putting the jacket on. The door slammed.

“I think he will be on time.” Itama noted, kicking his legs. “Last time he was late to the bus and he _ran_.”

Butsuma finished his coffee in peace.

* * *

Only after getting Itama to school and during a drive to hospital it hit him.

He kissed his neighbour on a previous night. He kissed Tajima bloody Uchiha on the lips in his own bloody bedroom after the man bloody helped him out with his bloody kids.

All that Butsuma could do was resist the urge to punch someone in a face – preferably, himself, repeatedly – and note to himself to later go get some proper expensive alcohol as an apology. That is, if Tajima would want to see him anyway.

* * *

Turns out, Tajima did want to see him. At least judging by the almost immediate reply to a text Butsuma sent him asking if he was free this evening. That meant that Tajima wasn’t pissed at him for the previous night and Butsuma felt as if something really heavy was lifted from his shoulders. He still had a chance to make stuff up.

“Father. You’re smiling.” Tobirama eyed him from the back-seat, sunglasses pushed to his forehead. Kawarama next to him immediately straightened up and moved himself to try and catch Butsuma’s reflection in rear mirror.

“I’ll be going out this evening,” Butsuma said. “I will explain in detail after dinner, but I won’t be long and I expect all of you in beds-” Here he eyed the twins. Tobirama rolled his eyes and put the sunglasses back on his nose, Kawarama tried his best to look as innocent as possible but there was a shadow of a restrained smile on his lips. “-and _asleep_.”

“Sure thing, father.” Tobirama drawled and Butsuma sighed deeply. He instead started to list off what to do when back home, dinner for kids, he waited for one bill to come but he didn’t have to pay that one yet, he should prepare for evening with Tajima – not too much though. It was supposed to be a _friendly_ meeting and Butsuma shouldn’t, really shouldn’t act like when Hashirama got his girlfriend and panicked every morning because _father, maybe I should change my clothes, she will be sitting next to me, what do I do_

“Maybe Hashirama was right..?” Kawarama whispered to his brother and Butsuma felt his eye twitch.

* * *

After dinner with children and baiting Tobirama into behaving and more or less controlling the rest of his siblings with a promise of getting him whatever new book he wanted, Butsuma, dressed neatly and with a little of aftershave, went to meet his neighbour.

He wasn’t entirely prepared for _that_.

It was _probably_ satin. Whatever the hell Tajima was wearing right now – a bathrobe, to be exact, not the nice cotton ones that were actually useful, no, it was one of those flimsy slippery things that looked straight out of a movie – was black and most likely satin and Tajima looked a little too good in it, leaning against a door-frame and smiling in a way that made Butsuma feel like a mouse entering a cat's territory. Which was true, in a way.

Butsuma had a feeling this lovely evening was a little bit too hot. Also, he should say something, he has been looking at – eyeing, even – Tajima for solid 30 seconds now and that was awkward, wasn't it?

"Good evening, Butsuma." Tajima's smile was growing alarmingly wider with every moment. Butsuma just thrust the bottle in front of him and Tajima nodded understandingly. He took the bottle from fim, gently grasped Butsuma bicep and pulled him inside.

"Evening." He finally blurted out when he entered, toeing his shoes off and trying his very best to not stare at Tajima's backside – that bathrobe was exposing entirely too _much_ while covering everything, fabric clinging and shining in all the _best_ places. He looked around, anything to not look at Tajima casually getting wine glasses.

As much as it pained Butsuma to admit, Tajima's kids were generally quieter and more disciplined than his own. Madara could be left with his siblings without much trouble, while Hashirama was... well, Tobirama could handle situation 90% of the time – unless Hashirama just took control from him, which Butsuma knew he was capable of. Itama was too young as well and Butsuma didn’t trust other sons when it came to taking care of him, even if he knew that they loved him.

Even if Tajima’s children were more controllable, it was still too quiet.

"Where are the kids?" Butsuma asked, looking around. What a welcome distraction from his increasingly alarming thoughts.

“Oh, I asked my brother to take care of them for tonight.” Tajima returned with two glasses in one hand and twirling a wine opener in the other and sent Butsuma another smile. A very friendly smile.

Butsuma’s brain screeched to a halt, brain connecting the dots. They were home alone. Tajima was most likely very much not accidentally wearing that damn bathrobe, after all he _knew_ Butsuma would come. All of that was _not_ a coincidence, considering just on a previous night Butsuma gave in and smooched the man before passing out like a cretin.

“You seem awfully tense today,” Tajima poured a glass and passed it to him. Butsuma grasped it, desperate to have something to busy his hands and, directed by Tajima, sat on a sofa nearby. “Is something wrong?”

“I came over to both thank and... apologize for yesterday.” Butsuma carefully avoided looking at Tajima, who was now pouring wine for himself, still smiling. “I was too tired to think properly, what happened later shouldn’t ever happen.”

A glass on a way to Tajima’s lips froze halfway through.

“Shouldn’t?” Tajima repeated and Butsuma had a strange feeling that this was not what he wanted to hear _at all_. Which, if true, confirmed his conspiracy theory that Tajima arranged today’s meeting with a _certain_ goal on his mind but also meant that Butsuma, yet again within last 24 hours, fucked up.

Tajima was no longer smiling, dark eyes unblinkingly staring at Butsuma. He seemed to consider something and Butsuma didn’t dare to ask. Glass of wine still in his hand, he silently approached Butsuma, towering above the sitting man. The only sound in the room were the rustle of a fabric of this damn bathrobe and a ticking of a clock somewhere in the background.

“You owe me, Butsuma.” Tajima finally said. “So even if you believe that shouldn’t have happened, I would be really grateful if I could repay the favour,” He held out his glass to Butsuma and he took it. Tajima then put his hands on Butsuma’s arms and like this Butsuma’s world was reduced only to the man standing above him. “In any way that is comfortable for you, of course.”

If Butsuma could, he would pull Tajima onto his lap, anything to get this man closer, but he was fairly sure this was _precisely_ why his hands were holding the glasses, effectively rendering any movement impossible. The damn table was behind Tajima’s back and Butsuma couldn’t, just couldn’t focus on anything but him. The man was overwhelming him in ways he didn’t understand, merely with a glance and a touch, but two could play this game.

“Anything you’d like in particular?” He finally said, voice low. He allowed himself to recline a bit on a sofa and sipped a bit of wine from one of the glasses. He wasn’t entirely sure which one was his. Tajima bowed, moving closer to Butsuma and his eyes slid to where the black material loosened a little bit, revealing a little bit more of Tajima’s collarbone.

“Maybe I could drop Madara and the rest of kids on you with few hours of notice? I thoroughly doubt you’d be able to handle nine kids on your own so that would be amusing to watch.” Tajima was mocking him and Butsuma was honestly this close to throwing those damn glasses away and snogging the man proper.

“I think you’d rather a proper repeat from yesterday, wouldn’t you?” Butsuma allowed himself to more wine. He got some good stuff anyway, maybe it’s better to just drink everything and not worry about glasses on the floor?

“You, kissing me while barely clinging to consciousness?” Tajima laughed and bowed lower, putting his forehead against Butsuma’s. Only this close he could see Tajima’s eyes properly, how thin his irises were. He breathed in.

“Maybe we can stick just to the first part? I would be very _comfortable_ with it.” Butsuma groaned out and Tajima let out another laugh. He took one of glasses from wine and Butsuma’s arm immediately found its way around Tajima’s waist, pressing him closer until Tajima was forced to kneel between Butsuma’s legs to keep the balance.

“Gladly.” Tajima grinned and closed the distance between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> I am very rusty with writing and all of this is unbeta'ed so if you see any mistakes, please do tell.


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